


the windows, stained

by werewolfe



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: (actually sorry tho), (but not really), M/M, Self-Hatred, Unrequited Love, still suck at tagging things. not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:17:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10065932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werewolfe/pseuds/werewolfe
Summary: longing.(titled is v loosely based off a pencey prep song. it's a better title than 'that whole lightvs.dark thing')





	

**Author's Note:**

> so, i haven't specified who is who, but like... it's not hard to tell, honestly. i found this in my notes n became obsessed with the imagery. probably wont last, but at least it was a thing at some point.

longing is an awful, awful feeling that should never, in this universe or any other, be allowed to exist. it's constant, relentless, /exhausting/. it feeds on vulnerability; the base human desires, & the intricate, deep-seated insecurities you carry with you always. it's so much more than love... carnal, & yet infinitely more complicated all at once.  
& yet... it feels impossible to resist. he's just so beautiful...

i've been writing poetry. using metaphor. an art i usually reserve for my darker thoughts & memories. i've never been one to write about romance without comparing it to death, to tragedy. but he's just so light, so... ethereal. how could i ever associate him with darkness? i'm in awe of his very existence. he's a fucking angel. my muse. he's fairy dust & ocean foam, the grace & wisdom of elves (the beauty goes without saying); he's autumn leaves & dragonflies, waves so gentle they barely ripple the surface; he's the light of dawn through stained glass windows, a flute on the wind, soft tinkling bells & the rich green of moss on forest floors. i am reminded of him when i look at trees & wispy clouds. he's the smell of rain on a warm day, the earth rich with it, with his essence.

he's bliss personified.

he looks over & smiles at me from his desk in the corner. i smile back (how could i not?), dazed & happy & in Love, for real this time. i'm lucky. so goddamn lucky just to be near.

sometimes the thoughts, the /other/ thoughts, creep in. tell me i'm poison. venom. that i'll drain the life from him, blacken his blood. he always knows. pulls me back. tells i'm his best fucking friend & that the idea of me hurting him is absurd, impossible. i'm dubious, but i trust him to know himself - to be swept away by starlight & sand & the peaceful quiet one finds under willow trees at midday, but to always return & know just how long he was gone. perfectly balanced between reality & fantasy, floating between the two with ease. like it's effortless. he's effortless. he reminds me that my worrying is only hurting me, but is of course important, never trivial. that it's okay, i'm okay, we're okay. i can always count on that. the reassurance that, whether or not (i still don't know) our feelings are alike, he & i will always be fine.

that doesnt mean that i dont wish he would soothe my aching ribs & warm my cold blood & press light kisses upon my heavy eyelids. that my blackened soul would leave his luminous white one in tact if they were ever to intertwine. i'm ink, messy & leaving behind permanent stains, smudging all over anything & everything that retains its purity. corrupting. & he's so /good/, so lovely, that he would allow his innocence to seep into me & make us the same. but like tar, i'd fill in all the cracks he leaves exposed & turn him dark.

but a boy can dream. we're both just dreamers afterall.


End file.
